


We Are One and the Same

by lj_todd



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Fic, M/M, OT3, Post-Season/Series 03A AU, Role Reversal, Soulmates, Stalion Week, Stalion Week 2016
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:14:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,500
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lj_todd/pseuds/lj_todd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of works for Stalion Week 2016.</p>
<p>Day 1. Deucalion stays after 3a<br/>Day 2. Role reversal<br/>Day 3. Alternate Universes (College AU, Werewolves are Known, Non-evil Alpha Pack)<br/>Day 4. Soulmates/Courting/Omegaverse<br/>Day 5. Kid Fic (deaged/both of them as kids/with kids/mpreg)<br/>Day 6. Guardian/Ward<br/>Day 7. OT3 and Moresomes</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Deucalion could never truly say what had kept him in Beacon Hills after Scott and Derek had spared him. Perhaps it had been curiosity, to see what sort of Alpha Scott McCall might become. Or perhaps it had been his natural need to be part of a pack, even if that pack was led by another.

In the early days after the lunar eclipse Scott, and the boy's pack, had been wary of him. He couldn't blame them. He had after all been instrumental in the deaths of two of their friends. Two of their pack. He felt somewhat guilty over that. While he had little qualms when it came to killing the death of children was something he did his best to avoid and, despite their attempts to act grown up, Erika and Boyd had been children.

It took time but eventually Scott and the others came to accept his presence, even turned to him for advice from time to time. He saw it as progress. Steps in the right direction. Showing Scott that, not only could he be trusted, but that he was willing to bow down to him as pack Alpha.

And then the Nogitsune reared its dark, twisted head.

Learning that it had chosen Stiles as its host had served to enrage him.

Stiles was a good person. Fiercely loyal and cunning. Deucalion had seen all of that and more in Stiles the first time he had laid eyes on the boy. Stiles was, he knew, special. To know that something as dark as a Nogitsune was tainting the boy had caused his blood to boil and he did everything he could to help Scott save his friend.

The pack in the end did manage to save Stiles.

But at a cost.

Alison and Aiden.

Dead.

They had given their lives for their friends. For their pack.

He kept his distance from the pack for a while, giving them time to mourn, knowing he also needed time. So he was surprised when Stiles unexpectedly turned up at his door. He didn't ask how the boy knew where he lived, merely stepped aside and let him into the apartment. Stiles was quiet as he led the boy into the living room and quiet still when he sat on the couch, hunching down on himself, looking lost and afraid. The dark circles under his eyes had started to fade but his eyes were red and it wasn't hard to guess he had been crying.

Deucalion couldn't help but scent the air, picking up on the subtle changes in Stiles' scent, the boy's emotions fluttering wildly. What he scented on the boy had him dropping down to sit on coffee table in front of Stiles, reaching out to cover one of Stiles' hands with his own.

"What happened was not your fault, Stiles," the Alpha said softly, watching Stiles' flinching, scenting the self-loathing and anger wafting from the boy in waves. "It was the Nogitsune."

"But I..."

"It was not," Deucalion rumbled. "Your fault."

"Alison..." Stiles let out a broken sound. "Aiden...they..."

"They died, yes," the Alpha gave a small nod. "But they..." He rumbled faintly, hand shooting up to cup Stiles' chin, forcing the teenager to lift his head, to look at him. "They fought, they died, for the people they loved. For you, Stiles."

"I..." Stiles blinked, tears rolling down his face. "I didn't ask..."

Deucalion's grip tightened slightly on the boy's chin.

"You never ask for those who love you to defend you, just as they never have to ask you to defend them." The Alpha's gaze, and grip, softened, thumb brushing over Stiles' cheek, brushing away the tears. "That is what makes them our friends. Our family." He rumbled softly. "Our pack."

Stiles let out another of those broken sounds before he slumped forward, tucking himself against Deucalion's chest and, for the first time in years, the Alpha willingly, gladly, offered comfort to a pack mate. As Stiles' cries turned to ragged sobs, words broken by his gasps and hiccups, words of blaming himself, of wishing he could take it all back, Deucalion held him, rumbling softly, hands rubbing over the boy's back, a wolf's comfort. But when Stiles whimpered that it should have been him, that he should have been the one to die, Deucalion's rumble became more of a growl.

He reached down, hands framing Stiles' face, lifting the boy's head so their gazes met.

"Never," the Alpha growled faintly. "Never say that again. It's not only shameful to yourself but it makes little of the sacrifice your friends made." He swept his thumbs over Stiles' cheeks. "Alison and Aiden would not want you to blame yourself."

Stiles whimpered as fresh tears spilled down his face and Deucalion could see the pain etched in the boy's very being.

"Oh, my boy," Deucalion's voice softened and he inched closer, letting Stiles tuck himself against him once more. "I know it's easy to blame yourself. I know all too well how easy it is. But Aiden and Alison would not want that. They fought for you, Stiles. They fought for our pack. Honour them not with regret but by living. By remembering them and acknowledging their sacrifice for what it was. An act of love."

Stiles whimpered again and Deucalion moved, cradling the boy, turning them so they were lying on the couch, Stiles tucked up against him. The Alpha's instincts, ones he'd denied for years during his rule over the Alpha Pack, surging to the forefront of his mind and he rubbed his hand gently, soothingly, over Stiles' back. He let the boy cry himself to sleep, all the while whispering soft promises that the pain would, in time, go away. That the wounds he felt at the loss of his friends would heal. And that, until that happened, Stiles could always come to him. He would always be there for the boy.

Because that's what a pack was.

Support and guidance and love.

Your pack was, after all, family.


	2. Chapter 2

Stiles sat on the edge of the operating table in the animal clinic perfectly calmly which, given the situation, was quite amazing. He listened, intently, as Deaton explained what the witch's spell had done and that, no, the Druid did not have a cure, apparently there was no cure, and they would just have to wait it out.

"Well that's just bloody fan-fucking-tastic," a sharp voice snarked from next to the sink. "Because I so bloody much enjoyed being a teenager the first damned time around."

Stiles couldn't help but smirk as he turned his head, watching as Deucalion, for lack of a better word, sulked. Deaton sighed and shook his head.

"I'd forgotten how much you swore as a teenager," the Druid said as he began tucking his herbs away again now that he knew there was nothing he could do for the pair.

Deucalion opened his mouth, no doubt to give Deaton a much better reminder of his ability to swear, but Stiles growled, eyes turning a faint shade of red. Deucalion started. Whether because of the growl or Stiles' sudden ability to go all Alpha werewolf it wasn't clear but then those bright eyes narrowed and his scowl deepened.

Deaton chuckled and shook his head. "Stiles," he said, quickly drawing Stiles' attention. "I think it might be best if you and Deucalion laid low for a few days. At least until this spell wears off."

Stiles nodded and stood, swaying slightly since he still wasn't quite accustomed to his new adult body. He was only slightly taller than he been as a teenager but he was more heavily muscles. It took a moment or so for his body to get with the program and move like it should. He looked at Deucalion, who looked, funnily enough, kind of adorable as a floppy haired teenager, even if he was currently glaring daggers at the far wall.

"Alright," Stiles said, nodding towards the door. "Let's go, Demon Puppy."

Deucalion shot him a nasty look and growled.

But with his oh-too-human vocal cords the sound didn't quite work.

Stiles couldn't help his grin as Deucalion stormed out of the clinic ahead of him.

He followed after the teenager and found him waiting in the Jeep.

As he climbed in he glanced over at Deucalion.

The teenager was tense and he kept drumming his fingers on his knee and Stiles sighed softly.

"Look," he said as he started the Jeep, slowly backing out of the parking lot. "I..."

"How the bloody hell do you deal with this?!"

Stiles blinked at Deucalion barked question. "Huh?"

"This." Deucalion gestured at himself, knee suddenly bouncing, the teenager seemingly unable to sit still. "I know you once mentioned you were hyper but by God, Stiles, this...how do you manage it?"

Ah, right, part of the witch's spell, besides turning Stiles into a middle aged adult and turning Deucalion in a surly teenager, was that certain attributes of who they were had also switched. Such as Stiles suddenly possessing werewolf powers and, it seemed, Deucalion ending up with Stiles hyperactive tendencies.

"I've got Adderall at my place," Stiles offered. "It might help."

Deucalion huffed and shook his head. "I'm an Alpha. I can endure this."

Stiles didn't want to point out that Deucalion wasn't exactly an Alpha at the moment but he'd learned long ago that even Deucalion, calm and patient as he was, had a limit and, something told him, Deucalion had likely reached it. So instead he just headed for his house, sending a group text to the pack letting them know what had happened and that they'd be out of the game for a little while.

Of course just because he'd decided they were taking a break from the supernatural world didn't mean the supernatural world had gotten that memo.

And of course Deucalion, human teenager or not, had decided that he was going to throw himself right into the thick of things when a rogue Omega came sniffing around for trouble.

Chasing after the teenager opened Stiles' eyes to what Deucalion, and every other adult in his life, must have felt every time he went charging off into danger.

Seeing Deucalion, weak, unable to fight back against the Omega, both enraged him and helped him to understand.

The roar that broke free of his chest was loud and powerful and fully Alpha and caused the Omega, who had been posed to strike, to rip Deucalion's throat open, to release the teenager, dropping him to the ground, before shying back, golden eyes fixing quickly on Stiles, who had wolfed out completely.

The Omega started to back away, growling, wary but Stiles felt a surge of power, of instinct, an Alpha's instinct to protect his pack no matter what, and he growled as he prowled towards the Omega.

"You think you can just attack one of mine and run away," Stiles growled, eyes blazing like coals, claws fully extended, mouth full of fangs. "You think I'm going to turn a blind eye to that?"

The Omega, practically shaking down, growled in response.

"He's human," the Omega wolf sneered and Stiles rumbled, deeply, darkly.

"And that, what, makes him worthless?" Stiles shook his head, moving closer until he was between the Omega and Deucalion, who was watching Stiles with wide eyes. "The only worthless thing here is you."

The Omega snarled and, was either angry enough or stupid enough, to lung.

Stiles met him head on.

He still remembered how it had felt, that night on the lacrosse field, facing down an Alpha. How it had felt watching a Kanima rip a man apart. How it had felt going toe to toe with an Alpha pack. How it felt falling prey to a Nogitsune. All of that swirled within him, adding to his rage over Deucalion being in danger, and it helped to drive him. He might have no idea how to be an Alpha but he knew it was an Alpha's duty to protect their pack.

And, like Deucalion had once told him, they were pack.

And pack meant family.

Fighting with the Omega, trading blows, claws slicing through flesh like a knife through butter, filled Stiles with a strange sense of satisfaction. Nearly gutting the man caused him to falter for a moment. He didn't want to kill the Omega. He wasn't a killer. And that momentary pause gave the slimy little prick to dart off, still bleeding, into the trees. Stiles gave a thought to giving chase. To running the rogue Omega down and finishing what he'd started but, in the end, he turned back to Deucalion, finding the teenager on his feet, watching him.

"Are you okay," he asked, words slightly raspy from the fangs, as he slowly made his way over to Deucalion.

The teenager nodded, glancing from Stiles' claws to his still very wolfed out face. "Are you going to change back?"

Stiles felt his cheeks start to heat up, a blush spreading across his face, and he sheepishly admitted what Deucalion probably realized on his own.

"I...I don't really know how."

"You need to find your anchor," Deucalion said as he reached out, brushing his fingers over the bristly fur on Stiles' face.

Stiles nodded. "Yeah, I know," his nose wrinkled slightly. "How do I do that? I mean...Scott uses...used...Alison. I...I don't have someone like that."

Deucalion gave him an almost thoughtful look. A look Stiles had seen dozens of times before but not on that young face. It seemed odd seeing it now.

"Try thinking of someone you care about. It doesn't have to be someone you're in love with. It can be someone you would do anything, everything, to protect. Let go of the wolf and focus only on them."

Stiles nodded and closed his eyes.

He tried focusing on Scott. Then Lydia. Then his dad.

It didn't work.

He growled in frustration but before he could say anything self degrading Deucalion reached up, cupping his face between his hands, stepping closer as he did so.

"Just breathe, Stiles," Deucalion said softly. "Breathe and focus."

Again Stiles nodded, though he doubted it would work, keeping his eyes closed and drew a deep breath. He tried to focus on someone who could be his anchor but his focus kept shifting, kept narrowing down to Deucalion's heartbeat. Steady. Calm. The way the teenager breathed. Just as steady. Before he realized it he was mimicking that breathing pattern, letting the calm beat of Deucalion's heart wash away everything else. He heard Deucalion chuckle softly and slowly opened his eyes.

His wolf had receded.

He grinned broadly and couldn't help the excited sound that passed his lips or the way he grabbed hold of Deucalion, spinning them, laughing the entire while.

"I did it! Holy shit I...I actually did it!"

Deucalion laughed. "Indeed you did," he said as they stopped spinning, Stiles slinging his arm over Deucalion's shoulders, leading him towards the preserve entrance.

"We should celebrate," Stiles said, still grinning. "I'm thinking milkshakes and curly fries."

Deucalion chuckled again and nodded. "Of course, Alpha."

Stiles snorted and rolled his eyes. "Come on, Demon Puppy, I'll race you to the Jeep."

Deucalion let out a low sound but, instead of saying anything about the ridiculous nickname, he darted forward, breaking almost immediately into a run. Stiles laughed and gave chase.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been called Cirque de la Lune since the 18th Century.

The Circus of the Moon.

And it had been Stiles' home since he had been a child.

His father had been offered a place among the Cirque after his mother had, tragically, been killed by a former member, Rhys, a Nogitsune who, before that horrible night, had contented himself with minor pranks and mischief. But after killing a human, breaking a cardinal law of the Cirque, the Cirque's leader, Talia, had put an end to the rogue Nogitsune.

Stiles didn't know why exactly his father had accepted Talia's offer but part of him thought that it might have been the thought of having to raise him, alone, in a town haunted by memories of Claudia, had been too much for John. The prospect of raising a hyperactive son in a traveling circus full of people, supernatural people, must have seemed much easer.

He knew it was hardly a normal occurrence.

Both growing up in a traveling circus and growing up with supernatural creatures as friends and family.

But he wouldn't trade it for all the world.

It was his home and family.

Part of his role in the Cirque, besides promoting it when they arrived in a new town, was, like the other humans in the Cirque, to keep the truth hidden. It wouldn't do to have people suddenly learning that what they thought was just good stage makeup and acting was actually real. Stiles had grown up with that rule drilled into his head. And he took that rule to heart, knowing what it would mean for everyone if the truth was ever revealed.

So he did his part to keep things running smoothly.

Sure it was tricky sometimes. What with his best friend, Scott, being a werewolf in love the Cirque's teenage kitsune, Kira, and his own crush on the Cirque's second in command, Deucalion, but he thought he managed pretty good.

They arrived in Beacon Hills in the dead of night and, since Talia had already acquired the necessary permits, set up camp in the woods just outside the town. In the morning Stiles and Mason would head into town to hand out and post flyers for the show while John and Chris, a former hunter who now acted as security for the Cirque, ensured the relative safety of the camp and performance area.

But for now everyone was, as part of Cirque tradition, gathered together around the fire in the center of the circle of caravans and campers. There was laughter and talking and music.

Stiles sat with Peter, Talia's younger brother, who had, all those years ago, become something of a big brother to him even if he could be a dick at times. They kept trying to shove one another off the log they were sitting on, Peter grinning, Stiles laughing, only stopping when Talia gave them a rather motherly look that promised extra work if they didn't behave themselves. When her gaze swung back to Scott's mother, Melissa, Peter stuck his tongue out at her, making Stiles snicker.

"She's going to make you pay for that in rehearsal, you know that right," Stiles snickered and Peter huffed, ruffling Stiles' hair affectionately, making the teenager squawk and shove him again.

"Well worth it," Peter mused still grinning. "Every time."

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, well, speak for yourself. I don't exactly want extra duties this week, thanks."

Peter chuckled. "You're young, pup," he mused, watching as Chris returned to the circle from his trailer. "You won't die from a little extra work."

Stiles rolled his eyes. Both at Peter's words and the werewolf's obvious man crush on the former hunter. "And it won't kill you to, oh I don't know, actually talk to Chris instead of moon over him like a doe eyed calf."

Peter growled faintly, catching the back of Stiles' head and turning it so Stiles' gaze was on Deucalion. "Pot," he said in a sing-song-voice. "Kettle."

Stiles let out a huff of breath and shook his head.

"It's different and you know it," he grouched, sinking down a bit, shoulders hunching forward as he curled in on himself. "Chris isn't old enough to be your dad."

Peter's eyes twinkled slightly. "Hmm, but he is a silver fox, and I imagine we could come up with some interesting daddy play if..."

Stiles slapped his hands over his ears. "La la la la la," he shook his head. "I don't need to hear this!"

Chuckling faintly Peter reached out and tugged Stiles' hands down. "Alright, alright, I promise not to scar your fragile little mind anymore than it already is," the werewolf chuckled, shaking his head, suddenly turning serious, voice pitching softer, so as to not be overheard by the other supernaturals in the circle. "But really, Stiles, no one would care if you and Duke...hooked up."

Stiles' eyebrow shot up. "My dad..."

"Had no problem looking the other way for Parish and Lydia," Peter shrugged as he spoke. "Not to mention I'm fairly confident he already knows about your not so secret crush on Duke."

Stiles blinked.

"What?"

Peter rolled his eyes. "You're a teenage boy, Stiles, and, no offence, since you're one of the few that I actually like, but...subtly is not in your wheelhouse of talents."

Stiles blinked again. "So...So you're saying..."

"Everyone, and I do mean everyone, knows, or the very least suspects, that you'd more than happily bend over for Duke, yes. And that, kiddo, includes Duke himself."

Stiles huffed as he stood, giving Peter a shove, knocking him backwards and off the log. Ignoring the way Talia looked at him as he tucked his hands in his pockets and stomped off into the darkness of the trees, suddenly needing to be alone. He heard Peter call after him, saying he was sorry, but he just kept going.

He didn't wander far. Life in the Cirque had taught him that it was always safest to stay within shouting distance. He slumped against a large oak tree and tried not to think of Peter's words. He had thought he'd been careful about his crush. Thought no one knew. His eyes burned, itching with tears, and he quickly scrubbed his hands over his face. How could he have been so stupid to think that his crush was secret? Especially when he lived with supernatural creatures?

He drew a ragged breath, trying to calm the rapid race of his heart, a broken sound passing his lips as he scrubbed harder at his eyes, trying to will the tears away.

_I'm such an idiot_ , he thought as his knees shook, threatening to buckle. _A complete and utter idiot._

When his knees finally buckled he didn't fight it, just sank down to the ground, sitting there, wrapping his arms around himself, eyes squeezed shut in an attempt to keep the tears at bay.

He heard approaching footsteps but didn't move.

Probably just Peter come to try and make amends.

"Go away, Creeper Wolf," Stiles muttered into his arms, knowing Peter would hear it regardless. "I don't want to talk to you."

He let out an angry sound when Peter's hand ran through his hair and he lifted his head, letting out an angry sound, eyes flying open. "I said go away, Pe..." His voice stuck in his throat as he realized it wasn't Peter.

It was Deucalion.

He swallowed around the sudden lump in his throat. "Uh...hey...uh...Duke."

Duecalion gave him this soft little smile before slowly sitting next to him.

"You shouldn't listen to Peter's teasing," the Alpha werewolf mused as he continued to brush his fingers through Stiles' hair.

Stiles huffed, trying not to think about how Deucalion was still, more or less, playing with his hair.

"Stiles."

He glanced again at Deucalion when the Alpha said his name in a tone he didn't quite recognize. He was taken by surprise when Deucalion leaned in and brushed a soft kiss to his lips. Eyes going impossibly wide Stiles stared, somewhat dumbfounded, at the Alpha.

"Uh...what..."

Deucalion chuckled softly. "You really are blind when it comes to some things aren't you, love?"

Stiles started to bristle. What the hell was that supposed to mean? What was he so blind to that...

He suddenly blinked as things clicked, rather quickly, into place in his mind.

Deucalion had recent begun acting friendlier towards him. Bringing him snacks when he was too busy with his role in the Cirque to pause long enough to eat. Giving up his seat for him when he was ready to just drop from exhaustion. Getting him to help him perfect a new act for the show. It was all similar to what Scott had done with Kira. It was courting behaviour. And he'd been absolutely blind to it.

"Duke..." He barely breathed the man's name and Deucalion chuckled softly, leaning forward to press another soft kiss to Stiles' lips.

"Perhaps Peter knew what he was doing tonight after all," Deucalion mused, nuzzling gently at Stiles' neck.

Stiles huffed and shook his head. "You...You could have said...something...anything." He pointed at himself. "Human, remember?"

Deucalion chuckled again. "A human who grew up with werewolves and kitsunes and hellhounds."

"I'm have Oz flashes here," Stiles joked and Deucalion shook his head.

"My point, love," the Alpha continued, smiling fondly at the boy. "Is that you saw what I was doing and, albeit subconsciously, ignored it. Peter suggested perhaps I try being a little more open when you walked off tonight."

Stiles snorted. "I hope you told him something similar about Chris."

Deucalion smiled, arms wrapping around Stiles, pressing a quick kiss to the boy's temple.

"There wasn't much need. Unlike some people I could name Chris isn't blind and he got tired of waiting for Peter to make a move."

Stiles couldn't help but snort, which turned to full blown laughter as he imagined Chris marching up to Peter and, point blank, telling him how things were going to be. After a minute he finally stopped laughing, though he kept chuckling softly, smiling at Deucalion.

"Oh I wish I'd seen that," Stiles chuckled and Deucalion grinned.

"It was quite amusing." The Alpha rubbed his hand over Stiles' back. "Though my attention, admittedly, was else where."

Stiles stared up at Deucalion's beautiful eyes. Bloodshot, milky eyes. The eyes of an alpha, and, despite the milky sheen, they reminded Stiles of a full moon. A blood moon. They always had. He knew the story behind Deucalion's eyes, everyone did, it was why Chris was always so careful are the Alpha, why he kept distance between them even though Deucalion did not hold the other man accountable. Chris' father, Gerard, had attempted to blind the Alpha but had failed. Because, even though he looked blind, Deucalion could see. Which meant the Alpha could see the happiness in his face.

Reaching up, cupping Deucalion's face between his hands, thumbs brushing lightly at the corners of the Alpha's eyes, he smiled and leaned up, pressing a kiss to Deucalion's lips.

It was soft, gentle, and perfect.

Their lives weren't what people would call normal but they had each other, they had the Cirque and their family, and that, to Stiles, was all that mattered.


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles had been born with the named scrawled across his wrist in a rather elegant, if somewhat rushed, hand. 

He'd grown with the knowledge that, one day, he would meet the person said name belonged to and, like with his parents, things would just click. His mother had always told him his soulmate would be perfect for him. When he asked how he'd know he'd found the right one she'd smiled and told him _"They'll have keys that fit your locks. And locks that fit your keys."_

But after his mother's death, seeing how it tore his father apart, he began to hope he never met his soulmate. He began wearing a leather wristband to hind his soulmate's name. He no longer wanted to find his soulmate. If they didn't meet, if they didn't bond, then he'd never have to suffer losing them.

His decision was made firmer when he learned that werewolves and the supernatural was real.

He didn't want his soulmate, whoever they were, in danger because his life had turned into something like a Stephen King book.

So he went on with his life, helping Scott, his best friend, who was now a werewolf, deal with all the sudden supernatural mayhem that seemed to spring up in Beacon Hills. Including a pack of Alphas intent on wiping them out. He was doing his best to help his friends, though that got more and more challenging since he was, after all, only human. Learning the Alpha Pack wasn't the only threat, that an evil Druid, a Darach, was stalking Beacon Hills, turning people into human sacrifices, had only added more complications and Stiles had no idea what he could do to help.

When Scott told him he'd met the leader of the Alpha Pack, calling the man by name, everything in Stiles went cold.

Deucalion.

His wrist itched beneath the band and he fought hard to keep from saying or doing something. Like demanding to know where the man was. Or if Scott had seen the Alpha's mark.

There was, after all, a good chance that this Deucalion wasn't his.

A very good chance.

What would be the odds that his soulmate would be an insane Alpha intent on destroying their lives by getting Derek to kill his pack in order to become some power hungry Alpha like the members of the Alpha Pack and wooing Scott, who, as it turned out was a true Alpha, into said Alpha Pack.

Turned out the odds for that were better than Stiles had calculated.

It was actually Derek who let the cat out of the bag.

During one of their group meetings after a run in with the Alphas Derek mentioned about seeing Deucalion's soulmark. How it had been the strangest name he had ever seen. When Scott asked what it was Derek had hesitated before spitting out probably the worst pronunciation of Stiles' given name that he'd ever heard in his life. Thankfully Scott, floppy puppy that he was, didn't put two and two together, what with Stiles having been called Stiles since they were in preschool. But Stiles had nearly swallowed his own tongue.

The next day at school Stiles called on the same courage that had once had him racing across the lacrosse field to challenge an Alpha for his prey and approached one of the evil twins. He chose Ethan simply because he seemed slightly less likely to knock his head off just because the mood struck him. Ethan seemed genuinely surprised that Stiles had asked to talk to him, privately, but followed him to a more secluded part of the library.

"So," Ethan said, crossing his arms over his chest, studying Stiles with a grin. "What is it you want?"

Stiles drew a deep breath. "I need you to pass a message to your creepy boss."

Ethan's eyebrow arched.

"And why would I do that?"

Stiles huffed and glanced over his shoulder to the table where Danny was still sitting, waiting for Ethan to return, before looking at the Alpha again. "Because if you do I'll tell you the name on Danny's wrist."

Ethan's gaze slid to Danny, to the wristband the other teen wore, and he swallowed before he looked back at Stiles. Hand rubbing over his own wristband, hope swelling, momentarily, in his eyes.

"What's the message?"

Stiles drew a shallow breath. "Tell Deucalion that I...I know where he can find his soulmate."

Ethan's eyes widened slightly. "How could you possibly..."

Stiles shook his head. "Uh uh, not part of the bargain. You gonna deliver my message or not?"

Ethan studied him for a moment, briefly glancing at Danny again, before he nodded. "You have my word."

Sighing softly Stiles nodded. "Okay." He drew a deep breath. "Danny's soulmark," he said, hoping he wasn't making two big mistakes in one day. "It's Ethan."

The Alpha's eyes went wide and his gaze immediately snapped to the boy in question, that shimmer of hope returning to his gaze before he strode off, yanking his wrist band off as he went. Stiles just barely managed to make out the name scrawled across the Alpha's wrist. Daniel.

Huh, maybe he'd only made one mistake after all.

He couldn't help but watch as Ethan sat next to Danny, showing the boy his wrist, looking nervous and hopeful and everything someone potentially discovering their soulmate should be. Danny's eyes widened in surprise and, slowly, he unwrapped the wristband from his own arm. Everything after that, the way their eyes lit up, the way they suddenly embraced, Ethan's lips finding Danny's, reminded Stiles of his mother's words.

_Keys that fit your locks. And locks that fit your keys._

Part of him, a small, treacherous part, hoped meeting his own soulmate went that well.

Before the end of the day though all thoughts of soulmates and potentially meeting his went out the window after he made the mistake of lipping off to Harris who, cruel man that he was, kept him after school for detention. Which meant an hour of sitting in Harris' classroom, watching the clock slowly tick, feeling as if his brain was leaking out of his ears. The moment he was free he made a mad dash for his Jeep, checking his phone for messages from Scott or Isaac or Alison. He had just reached the lot, responding to Scott's text about Deaton possibly finding something they might be able to use, telling his friend he'd meet him at the animal clinic in twenty only to suddenly run into someone.

"Sorry," he said quickly, retrieving his phone from the ground where it had fallen. "Sorry, jeez, long day. Didn't see you there. Sorry, I..."

His voice suddenly stuck in his throat as he finally looked up at the person he'd bumped into.

Deucalion.

"Uh...hey," he said and then cringed. Really? Hey? That's what he said to the Alpha of Alphas? A werewolf who could, very easily, dismember him without a second thought?

Thankfully Deucalion seemed amused by him rather than annoyed.

How long that would last was anyone's guess.

"Well hello, Stiles," the Alpha wolf said, accent lilting and Stiles felt a small shiver roll down his spine. He wasn't sure if it was because of the man's voice or the chance that they were soulmates. "One of my young associates tells me you seem to think you can point me in the direction of my so soulmate."

"You don't believe me."

Stiles didn't know why he said it but something, something in Deucalion's body language or his voice or something, just told him the Alpha thought this was some sort of joke.

"Considering the likelihood of one every meeting their soulmate are slim to begin with add in the odds of someone else, someone who doesn't even know me, knowing who my soulmate is and, yes, Stiles, I don't believe you."

"Then why show up here?"

"My curiosity was piqued." Deucalion shifted his stance slightly, head tipping to one side, almost like a bird of prey watching a mouse or a rabbit. "And, not to sound offensive, but you're hardly a threat."

Part of Stiles bristled and he drew a slow breath, willing himself to be calm, and he rubbed, absently, at his wristband. "I heard through the rumour mill that...that you're not always blind," he said, watching Deucalion, seeing the subtle tension in the Alpha's shoulders. He quickly pressed on before the man could say or do anything. "The rumour is that you can see. As a wolf." He tugged his wristband off, turning his arm, for the first time in years purposely baring his soulmark to someone. "So tell me, can you read my mark?"

He couldn't see Deucalion's eyes, not with the glasses, but the Alpha's head tipped down as though he was looking at Stiles' wrist and suddenly the Alpha inhaled sharply.

When Deucalion yanked his glasses off Stiles felt his heart beat a little faster.

Deucalion's eyes were red, both glowing with his power and tinted from the explosive arrows Gerard had tried to kill him with years ago. Stiles stood as still as possible when the Alpha's hand shot out, curling around his wrist, thumb rubbing slowly over the name.

"Stiles," the Alpha murmured his name as he looked at Stiles' face, as though seeing the boy for the first time, and then he leaned forward, whispering a name in Stiles' ear. A name only a few people had ever been able to properly pronounce. A shiver rolled down his spine and, suddenly, it was like the world finally made sense. Like everything was finally clicking into place. Those spots in him, once empty without his soulmate, were finally filled. Like puzzle pieces snapping together.

He let out a low sound and suddenly his mother's words made perfect sense.

_Keys that fit your locks. And locks that fit your keys._


	5. Chapter 5

Deucalion watched as Scott and his fellow teenagers, what did young people call it, ah, yes, freaked out.

The pack had been trying to deal with a witch who practiced dark magic and, before they could take her down, the miserable old crone had cast a spell. A spell that had hit Stiles.

Turning the teenager into a child. A three-year-old child.

Scott had, responsibly, called his mother and the Sheriff, asking them to meet them at the McCall house, knowing that he was out of his league. Supernatural creatures the young Alpha could handle. But his best friend as a toddler? Not so much. And, it seemed, none of the rest of the pack could either.

Stiles, frightened and seemingly unable to recognize any of his friends, had somehow managed to wedge himself between the back of the couch and the wall and was refusing to come out. Deucalion knew they should wait for Stiles' father, surely the boy would recognize the Sheriff, but Liam seemed to decide he was going to get Stiles out of his hiding spot whether Stiles wanted to come out or not.

"It's okay, Stiles," Liam coaxed in the same tone one used on a frightened animal as he somehow managed to twist far enough behind the couch to reach for Stiles. "It's okay, buddy, just...come...here..."

The teenager let out a sharp yell and stumbled backwards, tripping and falling, nearly braining himself on an end table as he went down.

Scott and Malia were there instantly just as the Sheriff and Melissa came through the door.

"Dude," Scott said, grabbing Liam's shoulder as the Beta whined, loudly, cradling his arm to his chest. "What happened?!"

"He bit me!" Liam held up his hand, showing the already healing bite mark.

The Sheriff, clearly fighting his laughter, let out a low snort, causing everyone to look at him.

"Yeah," the man drug the word out a bit. "Should have mentioned if he's as young as you think he is he...uh...had a bit of a thing for biting. Especially strangers."

The Sheriff crossed the room, knelt by the end of the couch, peeked around it and, within seconds, had a squealing, much happier, three-year-old Stiles. Deucalion couldn't help but smile as he watched the Sheriff stand, cradling his son, checking him, making sure he was okay. Melissa, being a nurse, checked the boy over, before declaring he was a perfectly healthy toddler. While Scott explained what had happened Deaton arrived to see if there was anything he could do.

The Druid checked Stiles over before letting out a slow, deep breath.

"It isn't perminent," Deaton said, ignoring the Sheriff's muttered _Oh thank God_ , smiling at Stiles and giving him a bright red sucker, which the toddler happily accepted. "But it will take some time to wear off."

"How much time," Scott asked, frowning, clearly unnerved by not having his best friend as his usual self.

Death shrugged, moving away from Stiles, who happily popped his sucker in his mouth.

"With this sort of spell it's difficult to say." He shook his head. "Could be days. Could be months It all depends on how much intent the witch put behind it."

The Sheriff let out a low sound and scrubbed his hands over his face.

"Okay, okay, this..." He shook his head and looked at Stiles who, it seemed, had finally decided that Kira was his new friend because he tugged at her hand until she sat next to him on the floor and began coloring with him. "This is way, way, way out of my element."

Deaton did his best to reassure the Sheriff and, after a while both men left, returning to their respective jobs though the Sheriff made it very clear what would happen if anything happened to Stiles. Melissa gave a similar threat before she left for the hospital, giving Scott a sharp look that clearly said _don't screw this up_.

The teenage members of the pack did their best to keep Stiles happy and entertained but, after a while, the toddler became grumpy and tempermental which led to the teens having mini panic attacks.

Deucalion eventually rolled his eyes and took pity on them.

"Come along then, little pup," he cooed, taking Stiles from Malia, who had been attempting to sooth him back to his happy state, gently rocking the boy and rubbing a hand in gentle circles over his back. "Let's get you down for a nap, hmm? All this excitement is maybe a little too much."

Stiles, still grumpy looking, relaxed against Deucalion, the tears that had been threatening to fall slowly blinked away as the boy let his head rest against Deucalion's shoulder, his tiny hand fisting in the Alpha's shirt. Deucalion hummed softly as he sat on the couch, gesturing for the others to go, to leave the room and though Scott hesitated at first they did eventually file out.

Deucalion kept humming, kept rubbing his hand over Stiles' back, gently rocking the boy.

It didn't take long for Stiles to fall asleep and Deucalion smiled as he relaxed into the couch. He knew he could have lain Stiles down, could have left him to nap on the couch, alone, but he found himself just sitting there, holding the boy, letting Stiles sleep against him.

It was how, a few hours later, Melissa found them when she returned home from her shift. The sight was absolutely adorable. She took a quick picture with her phone and then sent it to Stiles' father. Smiling the entire while.


	6. Chapter 6

Deucalion sat in the kitchen of the Stilinski house long after the last of the visitors had left. He reached up, yanking his glasses off, tossing them on the table, hands shoving through his hair.

How the bloody hell was he supposed to do this?

He knew he had promised Claudia, how sworn to her, if anything ever happened to her and her husband he would take care of her son. She had even legally made him her son's godfather. But he had only agreed because he had never dreamt that anything would happen. Beacon Hills, after the fall of Talia's pack, had become a simple, sleepy town with very little supernatural activity. He hadn't considered there to be any risk to his friend or her family.

He had, of course, failed to take into account the very human element of danger.

A drunk driver.

Richard Martin.

Ran a red light doing eighty in a thirty zone.

Claudia and John had died on scene. Claudia on impact and John from blood loss.

Their son had, thankfully, not been with them.

Deucalion had, the moment he received the news, rushed back to Beacon Hills. Only Ennis had come with him. Kali had refused to involve herself and cut ties with the two male Alphas. Not that Deucalion was bothered by that. His focus had shifted quite drastically after hearing the news of Claudia's death and the realization that he was now responsible for a five-year-old boy.

He was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of Ennis' footsteps.

"I got the little guy down for a nap," the big Alpha said as he got a beer from the fridge. "He fought hard but tuckered himself out."

Deucalion nodded. "He doesn't understand all of this," he said as he leaned back in his chair, looking at Ennis as the man easily popped the cap off the bottle, eyes glowing a faint red as he let his wolf out so he could properly see the other Alpha.

Ennis took a swig of his beer.

"All the little guy knows is his parents are gone and they're not coming back," Ennis said as he shook his head. "You knew this wouldn't be easy. Would probably be best to sign something saying that nurse could take him. She expressed interest you know."

Deucalion sighed. He did know. The nurse, Melissa McCall, had been a friend of Claudia's. Was the mother of Stiles' best friend, Scott. She would be a fitting guardian for Claudia's son. Someone his friend would have likely approved up. Yet he hadn't leapt at the idea like he thought he might. He had given Claudia his word. He had promised to look after her son.

"What would you do, Ennis," he asked quietly. "If you were in my position?"

Ennis shrugged, taking another swig of beer.

"Honestly?"

When Deucalion nodded the big Alpha crossed the room to sit at the table.

"I'd stay." Ennis' answer was surprising. But honest. "I know it would be easier, for everyone, to give up Stiles to the nurse but...but Claudia didn't ask her to look after the little guy. She asked you. The one member of your pack that you spared asked you, despite everything, to look after her pup if something happened to her and her husband." Ennis shook his head. "That's trust, Duke. Trust that don't come easy."

Deucalion drew a deep breath, slumping back in his chair, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Taking care of Stiles means giving up what I have been working towards. An Alpha Pack. Vengeance against Gerard Argent."

"Sort your priorities out, Duke." Ennis said as he stood, clapping Deucalion lightly on the shoulder. "Once you do...then we'll figure out what to do about the little guy."

Deucalion watched his fellow Alpha leave the kitchen before he sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face.

How the bloody hell was he supposed to do this?

Drawing a deep breath he turned his head, eyes still wolf, looking at the photograph of Claudia and Stiles pinned on the fridge. Seeing her smiling face, full of light, love and hope, her eyes the same whiskey brown as her son's, caused his heart to skip slightly. She had been everything good in the world and her son had been robbed of her. And his father. With a low sound he stood and made his way upstairs to Stiles' room.

The boy was sleeping, but it was obviously not a calm sleep, the boy kept twitching and jerking in his sleep and Deucalion immediately scooped him up, settling on the bed, holding Stiles close.

His mind made up.

It wasn't what he had planned for his life. Far from it in fact.

But Stiles need him. And he had promised Claudia.

Seemed his priorities had changed after all.

They likely had the moment he'd learned of Claudia's fate.

 

**_oOoOoOo_ **

 

Ten years later and Deucalion felt he had made the right choice in staying in Beacon Hills and raising Stiles.

The boy, most certainly, was a handful at times. But he wouldn't trade him for the world.

The night a county deputy brought Stiles home in the middle of the night had been the most surprising event to date but Deucalion had simply taken it in stride. Waiting until after the deputy left before inquiring just what Stiles had been thinking, sneaking off into the woods in the middle of the night.

Stiles' explanation of trying to find a dead body in the woods with Scott's help had not, the Alpha decided, been worth being woken up at two in the morning.

"Love," Deucalion said, shaking his head, eyes glowing faintly as he stared at the teenager. "Perhaps it's because Ennis and I never kept from you what we are but normal teenagers do not go running through the woods, in the middle of the night, because they want to find a dead body."

Stiles shrugged and shuffled his feet. "I just...it sounded cool and..."

Deucalion shook his head, ignoring Ennis who, though still half asleep, was sitting on the stairs, snickering in amusement.

"Please tell me that Scott was not also caught. I'd hate for his mother to have to deal with this insanity as well."

Stiles shook his head. "Pretty sure Scott got away. I kind of distracted the deputies."

Deucalion sighed. "Of course you did." He shook his head. "Just...go to bed, love. You've school in the morning."

"But the body could have been killed by..."

"Any number of things. Including wild animals." Deucalion waved his hand towards the stairs. "Bed. Or at the very least your room."

"Am I grounded?"

Deucalion gave the boy a look. "Not yet but don't push your luck."

Stiles nodded and quickly darted up the stairs. Ennis patting his leg as he passed. Deucalion could sense the other Alpha was giving him a look without even looking at his friend.

"What?"

"You know he's right," Ennis said, slowly standing. "Whoever they're looking for out in the woods might not have been killed by an animal."

Deucalion had not wanted to admit that in front of Stiles. Hadn't wanted to encourage the boy to go searching the dark for something that, could just as easily, do to Stiles what it had done to its first victim.

"Go." Deucalion said, glancing at the other Alpha. "Find out what you can. We can't risk anything drawing unwanted attention to Beacon Hills."

Ennis nodded and left to investigate the woods and the mystery body.

Three days later and Stiles was rushing in the house, finding both Alphas in the living room, examining police files that Ennis had sweet talked from a deputy concerning the body, or rather half a body, that had been found in the woods. The teenager skidded to a halt, eyes wide, chest heaving. Before Deucalion or Ennis could speak, or ask what was wrong, Stiles was gasping out words that changed things forever.

"Oh my God, Scott got bit that night in the woods and now he's a freaking werewolf!"


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles grumbled sleepily as sunshine shone, through a crack in the curtains, across the pillow his head was currently resting, bathing his face in light. It was annoying. And keeping him from sleep. Still grumbling he tried to roll over but came up against the man sleeping next to him. Grunting faintly he burrowed closer trying to get away from the sunlight. He heard a soft chuckle but feigned sleep even as a hand rubbed over his hip.

"I don't think our mate is a morning person," a rich voice all but purred with a sweet British accent and Stiles grunted as another chuckle, deeper than the first, rumbled from the chest he was currently snuggled into.

"You're only figuring that out now?"

Stiles responded by pinching the man in front of him, earning a low growl, and a nip on the shoulder.

"Now, children," the hand rubbing over Stiles' hip swatted lightly. "Play nice."

Stiles huffed and opened his eyes, peering over Peter's shoulder at Deucalion, who was lounging on the other side of the Beta, smirking slightly.

"Where's the fun in that," Stiles asked, giving a small grin, sleep fading quickly and possible ideas of how to spend the morning began running through his mind. Peter, it seemed, had something similar in mind because Stiles quickly found himself rolled onto his back, the Beta werewolf leaning over him, grinning as his eyes glowed that electric blue.

"I'll give you fun," Peter rumbled, the sound reverberating through the room, making Stiles' toes curl in anticipation even as he looped his arms around Peter's neck.

"Bring it on, Creeper Wolf."

Peter rumbled, swooping down to capture Stiles' lips in a demanding kiss, all while Deucalion chuckled before scooting closer, mouthing at Stiles' shoulder and then Peter's, not wanting to be left out of the fun his mates clearly had planned.

Groaning deeply Stiles thanked every deity he could think of.

 

**_oOoOoOo_ **

 

Walking into the station later that morning Stiles tried to ignore the knowing look that Parish sent his way. Damn hellhound had a better sense of smell than any werewolf. Ignoring the man he made his way through the squad room to his desk, fighting back the wince that threatened to break out across his face as he sat down. He should have known being double teamed by his mates, as amazing as it had been at the time, wasn't the best idea. Not when he had to work.

But he endured it. Focusing instead on the dull, mind numbing paperwork scattered over his desk. At least until, at lunch, Ethan and Kira joined him at his desk, bringing burgers and curly fries with them.

"You should buy a cushion for your chair," Ethan commented and Kira snorted into her milkshake.

Stiles groaned faintly and rolled his eyes. "So not funny," he muttered, popping a bunch of curly fries in his mouth. "And I don't see you exactly sitting pretty when Danny..."

Ethan suddenly tossed a bunch of fries at him. "Shut up," the wolf growled faintly, gaze narrowed. "Before I forget that I'm not a homicidal maniac anymore."

Stiles rolled his eyes again. "Yeah, I'd like to see you handle the fallout from my mates after that."

Kira snorted again which gave way to the kitsune laughing. "Oh, so would I," she snickered. "Who do you suppose could do more damage? Deucalion or Peter?"

"I'm leaning towards Peter," Stiles said with a sage like nod. "Don't get me wrong my Demon Wolf is a force to be reckoned with but he's got nothing on an incredible pissed off Peter. Do you remember what he did after Kate gave me this?" He pointed to the scar on his face. A permanent reminder of the werejaguar's rage. Her claws had just barely missed his eye. Peter's rage had known no bounds.

Ethan shuddered slightly at the reminder of the werejaguar's fate and Kira winced slightly.

"I know we all agreed she got what was coming to her," the kitsune said, looking slightly green around the gills. "But that..." She winced again. "That was just..." She shook her head. "No, no, not thinking of that anymore. Not ruining my lunch because of that crazy bitch."

Ethan and Stiles nodded their agreement and quickly turned the conversation to the pack get together at Scott and Kira's house.

The rest of the day passed uneventfully, most of the calls to the station just typical calls and, the moment he could, Stiles was out the door and to Scott's as quickly as he could. Walking through the front door he was greeted by the sounds of shouting, of kids yelling and laughing, and the smell of pizza. Ah, nothing beat pack life. Dodging the kids, who were running around like monkeys, he made his way to the kitchen just as he heard Scott shout in the living room that something had better stop or else.

Shaking his head Stiles shrugged from his jacket, dropping it over the back of a chair, grabbing a beer from the fridge. He nearly jumped out of his skin when someone suddenly wrapped their arms around him.

"You do realize I carry a gun, right?" He grouched over his shoulder, giving Deucalion what was supposed to be a stern look but didn't quite carry the weight he wanted. "Loaded with wolfsbane and mistletoe tipped bullets."

"As if you would ever shoot our mate," Peter laughed as he joined them, plucking the beer from Stiles' hand.

"Might shoot you," Stiles said, eyeing the beer as Peter set it on the table. "Gimme my..."

Before he could finish speaking Peter leaned in and silenced him with a kiss. Stiles groaned, unable to decide if should press closer to Peter or move back against Deucalion. The Alpha surprised him by mouthing at his neck, one hand leaving his hip to tightly grip Peter's shoulder, effectively trapping Stiles between them. He whimpered softly but, before things could get any more heated a low grunt caused them to all look over at the door.

"Save it for your place," Derek growled, shaking his head, hoisting Scott's youngest, Sumi, over his shoulder, causing the little girl to giggle loudly. "Meeting's started."

Without another word he spun and stomped off.

Stiles groaned and let his head rest back against Deucalion's shoulder. "Cock blocker," he growled faintly. "That's what he is. Cock blocker."

The trio shared a laugh, and a few more kisses, before they headed into the living room, knowing if they didn't Derek would likely send Lydia after them. At that, they knew from experience, was not something they wanted.


End file.
